


Trim The Ivy

by sherek_and_sterek



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter -Mystery At Hogwarts, Hogwarts Mystery Game
Genre: Extreme Underage, Multi, POV Second Person, Rape/Non-con - Freeform, Student/Teacher, Underage - Freeform, bad/dirty/wrong
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:34:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherek_and_sterek/pseuds/sherek_and_sterek
Summary: I was playing HP-MAH and I thought it was kind of odd that everyone leaves you alone with Sprout and she tells you to reach high up to trim the Ivy. Needless to say I'm a weirdo and this was born because of it.This story is a story about a young reader having multiple sexual relationships with the professors (or creatures/plants/anything else I can think of) at Hogwarts. I obviously do not condone this in any real setting which is why this is a work of fiction in more ways than one.If that's not your thing, don't read it. Comments will be monitored.





	Trim The Ivy

You feel a little self conscious, the fabric on your body is shorter and tighter than normal. Because your bunkmates had wanted to try out a cleaning spell, you were now forced into your previous year’s uniform. The one  _ before the growth  _ spurt. Those jerks weren’t willing to risk it on their  _ own _ clothes. 

 

All you could do was hope that your robe hid most of the exposed skin of your legs. 

 

It didn’t.

 

Your first class was herbology and you adored it. Ms. Sprout was your favorite teacher. Always so warm and kind to you where the others, well they just weren’t. They were nice enough not to take out any of your familial ties against you, but hardly spoke a word to you unless necessary. 

 

Ms. Sprout was  _ different _ , like she knew what you’d been through, understood, and didn’t judge you for it. When you got to class there were some snickers from the other students but Ms. Sprout tapped her wand harshly against the desk and forced them to quiet. Class went on as normal, you learned all kinds of new things about Wiggentree and the types of potions where its bark is an important ingredient. 

 

You thought everything had went smoothly until it was nearly time for the next course and Ms. Sprout softly asked you to stay behind. 

 

You were worried you’d somehow managed to land yourself in trouble but you couldn’t think of anything in particular you’d done, except maybe she’d noticed your clothes. A blush flamed on your skin as your mind gave you all kinds of ideas about what she might think of you, prancing around in such skimpy clothes. 

 

Would she assume you were trying to get attention from the boys? 

 

Well it was too late to presume because everyone was leaving and you were still there, fiddling with your coursework and flattening the robe a bit in hopes of covering yourself, in case she hadn’t noticed. 

 

“Oh sorry dearie, I didn’t mean to make you fret. I was just hoping you could lend me those young hands for a bit. I’ve talked it over with Silvanus, or I guess I should say, Professor Kettleburn and he’s willing to tutor you on what you missed later this evening, would that be okay?” 

 

“Y-yes ma’am,” you say, feeling a wave of relief that she wasn’t there to give marks against you for anything. “How can I help?” 

 

“Well I’ve got some Ivy that needs trimmed and I’m just not as young as I used to be,” she said pulling out a small step ladder obviously meant for you to climb. You feel your cheeks flush again but you move forward.

 

“Oh no luv, you need your arms to be loose and free. You’ll need to take off that robe I’m afraid,” she said, making you clench between your legs. You’d never been so exposed before and while it was quite a bit embarrassing there was still a hint of danger and that stirred the arousal in your gut. 

 

“O-Ohkay,” you say, sliding the robe off your shoulders before clearing your throat and taking a step onto the ladder. She’s steadying it for you as you climb to the top.

 

“Mmm,” you hear her say and you feel the fire inside you start to burn hotter. 

 

“Professor Sprout? What am I to do now?”

 

“Oh yes,” she said, seeming a little distracted. “Just take these shears and trim up some of the longer pieces for me luv.” 

 

You really had no idea what you were doing but you saw that there were a few pieces considerably longer than the rest so you took one in hand but before you could ask if it was needing trimmed, you felt a large, warm hand on the back of your thigh. 

 

You ignored it, assumed maybe it was just another way to steady you. Still, your skin began to tingle from the contact and it made it heard for you to breathe, to speak. Still somehow you managed to ask if the piece in your hand was one of the ones in need of trimming. 

 

She didn’t answer but you felt another hand on you, a tight grip on the other leg sliding up until even the shortness of your skirt was no longer an issue given that her hands were well beneath it and cupping your ass cheeks. 

 

You nearly lost your balance trying to keep yourself calm. 

 

“Uh professor sprout?” You say, because as much as your mind might tell you to scream, to step down off the stool and rush out the door, your body is saying something entirely different. And not for the first time, it seems to be the one in charge.

 

“Oh beautiful child, do you know how hard it is for us to control ourselves around you...you’re like a young, supple fruit tree for skilled wizards. Calling us in for just one little bite, one taste and eternal pleasure would await us,” she said, making you blush  _ everywhere _ . 

 

“I don’t-I mean I’m not doing anything.” 

 

“That’s just it luv, you don’t even have to try...it’s taking everything inside me not to bend you over right here and taste your fruit.” 

 

A shiver goes down your spine. 

 

“Oh, you’d like that would you?” she said, her normally high pitched voice going deeper. You turn your head over your shoulder and you see her licking her lips as her fingers slip under the backside of your panties. “Grab your ankles, dearie. Then I’ll show you what it feels like to be savored.” 

 

You do as she asks, both because she’s your professor but also because your body is singing with want and need in a way you didn’t imagine possible. You wrap your fingers around the bones of your ankles and your breath hitches in your throat when her fingers move closer to the front, to the molten heat of your core. 

 

A moan escapes your lips as her finger dips inside you, pressing in gently until your legs start to shake a bit. 

 

“Mmm, that’s such a good girl dearie, maybe we should get you down from there before you fall,” she said, though her thick fingers didn’t move right away. They lingered there, drawing out some panted breaths and soft moans from your throat. 

 

“Come, make yourself comfortable on my desk,” she said, pulling away, turning you into a whimpering mess. 

 

“Yes, Professor Sprout.” 

 

You slowly step down from the ladder, though you are anything but steady right in that moment. She watches you with a dark glint in her eyes and it makes you want whatever she has planned, even more. She walks over to her desk and scoots her seat back just a bit so she can sit down there, then pats gently on the top. “Up you go, dearie. Let me show you how it’s properly done.” 

 

“Yes, Professor Sprout,” you say again, almost terrified that this isn’t actually happening. You want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything so there’s no hesitation in your steps and you rush forward to climb onto her desk. 

 

“Eager, aren’t you little one? I suppose it has to have been hard since you developed at home with no one to take care of you,” she says, spreading your legs wide as she prepares to taste you. 

 

What she said isn’t  _ exactly true _ , but you don’t want to correct her. Instead you stay quiet except for the small moan that leaves as she drags your panties between your thighs and over your knees. 

 

“So beautiful laid out like this,” she says, her fingers delving back into your waiting slit. 

 

“I-I need,” you moan, unable to hold it back really. You want to be patient but her fingers aren’t enough, you need more. 

 

“Oh I know exactly what you need, dearie. You trust us, yes? Your professors here at Hogwarts, I mean. Trust that we know how to take care of you?” she asks, your body responding immediately to her thumb on your clit. 

 

“Y-yes, ma’am.” 

 

“Good, then that’s what you’ll have to do. Outside of your coursework obviously, you’ll have to let us all breed you and then you’ll feel nice and sated, nice and full. And once you feel full, you’ll be able to focus on your studies. 

 

The mere mentioning of her breeding you has you dripping onto her desk, your body is gushing with desire and she’s still holding back-”Ahhh,” you moan because she interrupted you mid thought by diving in and letting her tongue flick around inside you. It feels amazing but you’re not done, you’re craving more and more. 

 

“P-proffessor-Sprout, I-I need-, I can’t-” you say, trying to tell her that as good as it feels, it’s not enough. She can’t breed you with her tongue. 

 

“Don’t worry, dearie. I’ll take good care of you. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I can’t breed you my precious girl. I’ll just need a little...help,” she said, reaching for her large wand from the desk. For a moment you think she’s going to fuck you with it but instead she swishes it in the air and the ivy that was once clinging to the window is growing larger and larger, a long, thick tendril drawing closer to the desk. 

 

You gasp in surprise but she just gives you a filthy grin. 

 

“Don’t worry love, you’re plenty wet enough to take it...though tomorrow I think we’ll experiment with something a little bigger,” she says, giving you only a second to be curious before the green tendril pushes inside you and your body arches in pleasure. 

 

It wiggles and moves inside you drawing out sounds you’ve never made until it just stops. 

 

You whine pathetically, eager to feel it again. 

 

Instead, she jerks harshly on it but it doesn’t come out, instead there’s something...a knot tied in the end of it that catches at your rim. “Oh Gods,” you cry out, the familiar sensation too much to bear. Your release comes flooding onto the desk but she doesn’t stop. Instead she continues to push the green vine into you, and jerks on it until the knot catches at your rim, drawing your orgasm out even further.

 

When she finally stops, finally the pleasure and hint of pain is over, you feel your whole body flush brightly all over again. “I-” you start, but you don’t really know what to say now. 

 

“Don’t worry, dearie. Just pack your things and head off to see Professor Kettleburn. He’ll be waiting for you.” 

 

“Yes, Professor Sprout,” you say, scrambling off the desk, folding your panties into the pocket of your robe as you rush to grab your books. You can feel your wetness leaking down your thighs but you don’t hesitate to leave when given the chance. 

 

You’re not sure if you should go clean up before going to Care of Magical Creatures class, but you decide it’s probably best not to keep Professor Kettleburn waiting. 


End file.
